Break Time
by mat528
Summary: Summary: Just a guide about taking breaks, for humans, as well as Time Lords…4th Doctor/Sarah Jane Smith; 10th Doctor/Rose Tyler


**A/N and Disclaimer: This plot bunny came to me at lunch one day as I talked about how important breaks are with a friend. As always, the usual disclaimer that I don't own anything applies.**

**Summary: Just a guide about taking breaks, for humans, as well as Time Lords…**

**Main Pairings: Fourth Doctor/Sarah Jane Smith; 10****th**** Doctor/Rose**

**Dedication: To Caryn, who came up with the inspiration for this story…**

BREAK TIME

Sarah Jane Smith typed furiously at her typewriter, trying to finish the massive article she was working on, following the cleanup of the damage Professor Kettlewell's robot had wrought. There were also the indictments of several key members of the Scientific Reform Society. She had meticulously interviewed eyewitnesses until the point of exhaustion, then submitted the article to a publisher, only to have the man say that the finished product would be due two weeks ahead of schedule. 

"Sarah?" Harry Sullivan's voice drifted through the corridor of UNIT, the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce, a defense operation for the government of Great Britain.

Sarah continued typing. "Yeah?" she asked, her pencil in her mouth.

Harry observed the young woman, who didn't even spare him a glance. He could see her weary expression as she worked furiously.

"My God, Sarah…look at you!" the human medical doctor exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief at the circles under her eyes, skinnier frame and disheveled appearance. "You've done nothing but work at that blasted typewriter day and night, haven't you?"

"Of course not!" Sarah cried indignantly. "I've gotten up from it from time to time!"

"Only to conduct interviews, and the like, right?" Harry said. Sarah lowered her head, her eyes hidden from view as they held a note of annoyance at being caught red-handed. When she didn't answer, Harry continued. "I _am _right!" He shouted. More calmly, he said, "Well, that does it! I'm going to the Brigadier! I'm going to see to it that he takes you off of the active roster so that you get some rest…"

"Um, Harry," Sarah reminded him as she continued typing, "You can't do that because I don't work for UNIT, remember?"

Harry snapped his fingers in a "shucks" gesture, admitting defeat. His eyes lit up all of a sudden as his mind seized on a plan. "You're right, Sarah. I suppose I get overzealous on this new job…got to justify the ol' paycheck, after all. You just go on, doing what you're doing, and I'll do what I do." He left without another word. Sarah sighed, muttering about her choice of words for her article. 

After ten minutes passed without incident, the reporter stifled a yawn, reaching for her eighth (or was it her ninth) cup of coffee? Just then, she spotted a multi-colored scarf out of the corner of her eye, followed by a very tall, curly haired, bohemian alien. The Doctor, it seemed, was making a house call (or an office call). Sarah groaned; she had hoped the Time Lord would be busy in his lab, or with the TARDIS out in space, or whatever.

"Hello, Doctor," Sarah greeted, pulling out a sheet of paper and carefully putting it face down on top of some others. She placed another blank sheet in the typewriter.

"Sarah," the Doctor said, also taking in her appearance, "what's going on? I haven't seen you for approximately…" he pulled an ornate-looking timepiece from his tweed vest pocket, "six days, fourteen hours, twenty six minutes and thirty eight point nine seconds."

"Very accurate, Doctor," Sarah commented, still typing. The Gallifreyan's lips pursed in a frown as he realized Harry was not exaggerating. Sarah was headed toward…what was the future human term again…burnout, that was it. He placed the timepiece back into his pocket and walked over to the raven-haired journalist, studying her. 

"Look, Doctor, you might not need to work for a living, but some of us do, so if you don't mind, I really need to concentrate," Sarah said, hoping the 750-year-old would take a hint.

The Doctor was not one to take a hint, unfortunately. "Oh, I don't mind, Sarah Jane," he said. "I want you to stop typing. You need to take a break. It's not like you're a Time Lord, you know."

The young woman tried again. "Well, I really need to submit this article for my publisher…" Sarah muttered.

"I find that when you take a break, things oftentimes have a habit of sorting out themselves," the Doctor remarked.

"Sorry," Sarah Jane rejoined stubbornly, "but can't do that right now." 

The Doctor fished a yo-yo out of his pocket and started playing with it. "Oh, come on now, everyone needs to relax," he said.

"Really?" Sarah countered, scratching out a word on her typed manuscript. "Do you?"

"Of course!" the Doctor yelled, affronted. "I just have different methods of relaxation, like meditating."

"This I have to see sometime…though not today," Sarah said. She grabbed a bottle of correction fluid from her purse, marking a passage on the paper. The Doctor put the yo-yo away, strolling up behind her and peering at what she was writing.

"Interesting article," he had leaned over her as he made his comment. Pulling back slightly, the Doctor started massaging her shoulders. "At least, you should relax. Now, I know a technique I learned from an ancient masseuse which increases brain function 110!" She was unaware of his hands moving up to her neck.

Sarah asked, "I would certainly like to hear about it!"

"The Earth term sounds something like, 'Renderous victimous unconscioso…'" the Doctor told her. Before Sarah could utter another word, she slumped in the chair. 

The Doctor beamed a toothy grin as he gathered her inert form in his arms. He put the knocked-out journalist in Bessie, and then started the engine. Brigadier Alastair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart came up suddenly, saying, "Doctor! I heard from Doctor Sullivan that Miss Smith was…" he stopped as he saw her slumped in the Doctor's yellow car. "What's wrong with her?" the Brigadier questioned.

"Nothing whatsoever, Alastair," the Doctor responded. He started backing out of his parking place, adding, "And I'm trying to keep it that way!" The Brigadier shook his head, smiling. He had a feeling that whatever the Doctor had done to Sarah was nothing compared to what she would do to the Doctor once she woke up. He watched as the Doctor took a road which led to a park in the distance.

XXXXXXXXXX

Sarah Jane mumbled as she woke up to the sound of crickets. She bolted straight up suddenly, realizing that she was no longer in her temporary UNIT office. 

"What!" she exclaimed. The journalist became aware of the odor of a fire. Glancing around, she saw the sun going down, and trees everywhere. Also smelling leather, Sarah looked down and spied the running board alongside Bessie's exterior.

"Ahh, good evening, Sarah Jane…" she heard the Doctor's voice say. He came up to the fire, tossing some firewood on it. He sat down beside it, placing some marshmallows on a stick and roasting them. 

"Don't you 'good evening' me, you sneak!" Sarah Jane yelled, extremely vexed with the Time Lord. "How dare you do this! How _dare _you knock me out, and bring me here, when I told you I was busy?" Before the Doctor responded, Sarah continued her tirade. "And I know the other co-conspirator in this! Harry put you up to this, didn't he?" The woman jumped out of the car, shouting, "Where is he?" She looked all around, but saw only the Doctor and the camp fire.

"Where _are _you, Harry!" Sarah shouted. All she got as a response was an owl hooting. 

"It won't do you any good to get angry," the Doctor said calmly. He offered a stick to Sarah, saying, "Marshmallow? You must be hungry after…I would say, four hours of unconsciousness."

Sarah sat down across from the Gallifreyan, crossing her arms. After about a moment, though, she couldn't ignore the rumbling in her stomach. She finally accepted the Doctor's stick and started chewing, savoring the sweet stickiness. The Doctor handed her a canteen filled with water. She drank half of the contents, rubbing her hands together in front of the fire. 

"When will we go back?" she asked after a long moment of silence.

"When you're feeling better," the Doctor answered. "You were right about Harry. He was worried about you, and so am I. You humans always want to push yourselves to the ultimate limit all the time, unaware of the physical damage that can do. If you keep to the path you've been on this week, you could end up in hospital."

"You should talk," Sarah said more derisively than she intended.

The Doctor handed her another marshmallow, watching her as she ate. "As I said before, I am a Time Lord. We don't require as much sleep as you do, but when we do have to relax, we know how to take a break," he said matter-of-factly. "Still…you do have a point. I'm not getting any younger…I suppose I could set a good example and take time off for fun and recreation…hence the reason I came here…Brighton Park, at your service!"

Sarah took in the various colors dancing off the trees in the firelight. She heard the sounds of the park, closing her eyes, and actually taking time to pick out the different animal and insect noises. This time, when she yawned, she didn't try to stop it, but let the wave of tiredness course over her. The Doctor and Harry were right…she _was_ tired, and it would do no good to be in a medical facility, exhausted and unable to finish the article. The Doctor gestured to a mat he'd laid down for her. She stretched out on it gratefully, falling asleep within two seconds. The next morning, she not only finished the article early, but with an hour to spare.

XXXXXXXX

In the year 2006, Rose Tyler finished reading the accounts of the Doctor and Sarah Jane Smith's that Sarah had written in her diary. Although the girl had not liked her newfound friend at first, Sarah Jane had grown on Rose. It was, she had to admit, a very lucky happenstance to have someone who knew the Doctor better than she did…someone who also cared for him as much as Rose did. The Doctor had become the way Sarah had been in her account lately…snapping not only at Mickey, but at her, his movements more erratic than usual. He'd also almost gone too far in a fight with a Sontaran officer, pounding him (though not beating him, thank goodness,) more than he usually did. 

The Doctor didn't get much rest as a rule, she knew. Part of that was his unique Time Lord makeup, but part was his stubbornness about relaxing. She suspected that a big part had to do with the Time War, and his reluctance to slow down to think about the loss of his people. Rose read the book again, not missing any details about the Doctor's previous incarnation and Sarah, but she knew that he would probably be ready for her to try something like knocking him out the way he had Sarah Jane. She felt a sensation by her left hip as her cell phone vibrated.

"Hello?" Rose greeted.

"Hello, Rose," Sarah Jane's voice came over the phone. "I know it's only been about a week and a half since we said goodbye, but how're things?"

"All right," Rose said with as much confidence as she could muster (which wasn't much). She wagered Sarah would hone in on her worried-sounding voice. Rose was right.

"What's wrong?" Sarah Jane asked. "Is it the Doctor?"

"Who else?" Rose responded bitterly. "At least Mickey an' I have the good sense to sleep once in awhile, and to relax…but the Doctor never seems to slow down. It's exhausting, and it's not good for him…I know it!"

"He always was a bundle of nervous energy," Sarah Jane agreed, "though it sounds like yours is much more so than mine ever was!"

"I'll bet a million pounds that he's off somewhere, puttering around, while Mickey is asleep!" Rose cried. "I know Time Lords don't need to sleep, but…this isn't normal. He's irritable, an' he's making mistakes when we go somewhere! His piloting is gettin' shoddy too…I'm really worried!"

"Library…third shelf, dead center," Sarah said conspiratorially. "The TARDIS will help you. I once had to use that book to force my Doctor to relax. Let me know the outcome!" Sarah Jane terminated the call.

Rose walked to the library, hoping that she wouldn't catch the Doctor in one of his moods. She spotted the book Sarah was talking about in its location. Pulling it down from the shelf, she read the words the TARDIS translated, _Sleeping Cures for Restless Time Lords and Ladies. _She flipped through various pages until she came to page eight. Reading the ingredients she would need, Rose went to the kitchen, smiling.

The Doctor walked into the kitchen, following his nose, a few moments later. He saw his companion bent over a pot of what smelled like some of the most appetizing brew he'd ever come across.

"Oh, hi, Doctor," Rose greeted, stirring the yellow substance. 

"Hello, Rose," the Time Lord greeted, pushing his hands into his pinstriped pockets. "What have you got there?" he asked, leaning over her so that he could get a better whiff.

"Jus' some soup," Rose said. She held out a ladle to the Doctor for him to sample. "Want some?" she asked, adding, "It's a new recipe. I'd love for you to try some."

"I don't really eat, Rose, you know that," the Doctor replied, but his face showed that he was salivating over the aroma of the soup.

"You don't have to _eat _it," Rose clarified. "Just _taste _it!" The Doctor took the ladle in his hand and, nodding, tasted some of the soup. 

"Not bad, but you need just a little bit more salt," the Time Lord told his companion. He put the ladle back into the pot and, selecting a salt shaker off the table, proceeded to put a pinch into the pot. He then lifted the ladle out again and tasted the soup, pronouncing, "Now _that's _a world class snack!"

The Doctor failed to see Rose's calculating look as he made his way out of the kitchen. "I'm glad you like it…" Rose murmured, giggling.

The Gallifreyan walked along the corridor toward the console room when he felt a wave of tiredness overtaking him. _What's wrong with me? _He mentally wondered. He found himself seeking the respite his bed could provide. As he sank down into his mattress and sleep claimed him in its peaceful embrace, he didn't stir as Rose found his bedroom a moment later. Taking in his handsome face as he peacefully snored she went into her room and, stripping off her clothes, began to dress in her pj's. She laughed as she realized something funny…Chicken Soup really _was _the cure for everything!

THE END


End file.
